Read Men of Fortune 1: Derek Online

Authors: Sienna Matthews

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #sex, #love story, #contemporary, #menage, #group sex, #erotic romance, #public sex, #multiple partners, #spanking, #voyeurism, #photography, #double penetration, #exhibition, #triple penetration, #light domination

Men of Fortune 1: Derek (2 page)

BOOK: Men of Fortune 1: Derek
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With pleasure, he was delighted to note. In
apology, he laved the hurt nipple with his tongue in a bid to
soothe. Damn, he loved her breasts.

She undulated beneath him, giving them both
intriguing skin rubs that flamed the passion rising between them.
She canted her hips and cradled his erection between her pussy
lips. He groaned at the slick wetness and started pumping, coating
his cock with even more of her cream as he slid between her folds.
Damn, he would come if he didn’t stop this, and he wasn’t through
with her. Not yet.

With great effort, he stopped and lifted his
lower body a little away from hers. She murmured a protest, then
reached in between their bodies and wrapped him in her hands. He
hissed in surprise, arching at the sensation. So good. Her hands
felt so good.

“Thought you could get away from me,
huh?”

“I’m yours,” he said, pressing kisses all
over her smooth, sleep-warmed skin. “I’m not going anywhere.
Ever.”

“Truly?”

The quaver in her voice disturbed him. After
being together for three months, two of those married, she still
had doubts about him? “Cross my heart.” He used the old-fashioned
phrase to make her laugh.

He kissed his way down to her abdomen and
missed her hands when his cock slipped out of them. He dipped his
tongue into her navel, knowing she was ticklish there.

She giggled again. “Stop that.”

“Uh-uh.” He blew over her skin, making her
shiver and laugh some more.

“Come into me, Derek. I need you.”

Her smoky, husky voice stripped him of
restraints, but he managed to hold on to a couple of strands.
“Soon,” he promised. “You’ll like this.”

“Who says I would—? Oh!”

He’d supported her buttocks with his hands
and bared her to his gaze and mouth. Her surprised, pleased shout
came after he swiped his tongue over her pussy in one long lick
before settling in to explore her wet folds. Delicious. Her mewling
cries his encouragement, and her cream ambrosia for his thirst.

She tasted good, sweet to his palette. Her
cream flowed for him, and he lapped her up. He didn’t know how long
he ate her pussy, but he couldn’t get enough of her. He drowned in
her scent, her flavor, her soft cries. He loved that what he was
doing was giving her pleasure. He stabbed his tongue into her
entrance and felt her muscles contract around him. So tight.

His cock pulsed, insistent.

Soon, soon.

It was time to send his wife soaring.

He brushed her clit with the flat of his
tongue, and she shuddered. He did it again, and her hips gyrated.
She arched, pushing her pussy against his face.

“More,” she begged.

He repeated the movement, slow, hard brushes
until she became incoherent, mindless. He pursed his mouth over her
clit and sucked.

She shattered, and no matter how many times
he’d seen it, felt it under his tongue or around his cock, he
couldn’t get over how beautiful she was in the throes of orgasm.
Her face scrunched up tight, her mouth hanging open in a scream and
her pussy flowing with her juices, she told her lover with
unstinting generosity just how instrumental he’d been in her
ecstasy.

Before her pussy could stop contracting,
Derek pushed his hard, aching cock into her, sliding home with one
move. Tight, so tight. So good. He threw back his head in a
wordless shout as his hips rolled in answer to the urge building in
him. Goaded by the heels on his buttocks, he withdrew and thrust
back in, setting up a rhythm that was hard and fast. The room
filled with the sounds of their groans and cries and the slaps of
their lower bodies meeting in perfect unison.

He kissed her as his hips pumped, needing
this intimate connection between them even as his cock plumbed her
depths. Anyone could fuck and still remain detached, but meeting
mouths entailed breathing in your lover’s scent and drinking in her
essence. Fucking was raw and carnal, no matter that it was couched
in terms like “making love”, men and women stripped down to their
most basic to engage in the most physical of acts, but kissing
carries with it an intimacy that entailed an opening of the soul, a
forging of bonds between two strangers.

He was a romantic, as his friends kidded
him. But what was a photographer if he didn’t have a romantic soul,
when the soul was the lens by which he created his
compositions?

And that soul was now being overcome by the
lust rising in him, his balls tightening with biting urgency. His
rhythm increased, his hips pistoned in a blur of movement that
urged them both higher, tighter.

“Derek!” Carly screamed, her back
bowing.

Her heels pressed down on his buttocks as
she ground her lower body into his. Her pussy contracted around
him—
God, so
tight!
—and he labored to breathe. He thrust deep, deeper.
Stars blinked in his sight as he groaned and roared out his
ecstasy.

Boneless with satisfaction, he withdrew out
of his wife and gathered her into his arms with the last of his
meager strength. The last thought before he dropped off into
oblivion was how lucky he was in his choice of wife.

* * *

Derek came awake, missing the warmth beside
him. By the coolness on her side of the bed, she’d been gone
awhile. He slit one eye open to see her sitting by her desk, a look
of fierce concentration on her face as she scribbled in her
journal. He smiled, a feeling of deep contentment washing through
him, underlain with a hint of amusement. While other people blogged
or tweeted, Carly still kept a diary, which she updated every so
often, not that he got to read it.

One day. Maybe.

He shifted in order to have a better look at
her. She must’ve sensed or caught sight of his movement, for she
stopped writing and glanced up. A smile lit her features when she
saw he was awake.

“Good morning.”

He scowled. “I expected more than a
greeting.”

“You’ve already had your morning quickie
several times in the night.”

He’d been talking about a kiss, but her
mention of “quickie” had his wayward cock stirring. “C’mere.” He
crooked a finger.

She shook her head in rueful resignation,
then stood and crossed the short distance to the bed. Even in her
robe, she was sexy as hell and fired his imagination, his mind
immediately composing shots that would show her best features to
advantage.

She knelt on the bed and slunk her way
toward him, her robe gaping to reveal her breasts and the hard
points of her nipples made him wild. Damn, what was it about this
woman? He’d photographed more beautiful women, seen bigger breasts,
grabbed tighter asses, but one look at her, one touch was enough to
make him as hard and lusty as a seventeen-year old boy.

Love. It really did make a difference, for
underlying the desire was an upswelling of tender emotion that
threaded through his hunger.

Still smiling, she placed her mouth against
his and kissed him with soft, feathery touches. “Good morning.”

He groaned. “You have to do better than
that, woman. Is that all you learned from me?”

Her emerald eyes gleamed. “You might not be
able to get out of bed.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

The kiss was open-mouthed and hot and
passionate, involving lots of tongue and teeth. She devoured him
like he was a favorite treat long denied. He was hard and panting
by the time she raised her head.

“You were saying?” she purred.

“Good morning,” he rasped.

She grinned. “You have to do better than
that. Seriously, Derek, is that all—Oh!”

He’d kicked the blanket off his body and
maneuvered her over him. With his hands on her hips, he held her
steady as he surged deep into her. He grinned back at her, at the
pleased moan that came out of her mouth. “You were saying?”

“I love action more than words.” Their
fingers intertwined, she started moving up and down on his cock,
her slick juices allowing her to bounce easily on him.

“Same here, baby.” Especially when a kiss
meant “good morning”, and a quickie…well, a
great
morning, obviously.

She gyrated her hips, adding rolls to her
rhythm in a way that spiked the pleasure and the lust. Their coming
together was hard and fast, especially after the explosive kiss.
She moved faster, but she couldn’t move fast enough for him or for
the tension that was tightening his balls. Releasing her hands, he
gripped her hips and drove his cock into her, over and over, short,
sharp, quick plunges in tandem with the clawing need in him, the
need to explode, to release the tension that seized his body.

He strained, reached for it…She
must…must—

She screamed, convulsing around him, her
pussy milking him with tenacious intensity. He couldn’t help but
surge deep into her and unload himself, shouting her name. His
orgasm rode him hard, and even when he thought he’d spent himself,
he still thrust into her, loathed to be parted from her. But
finally, he had to stop, when his flaccid cock slithered out.

“Now, wouldn’t you say…that was…a better
greeting?”

“The best.” She heaved a deep satisfied sigh
from where she lay on his chest. “Sorry to be a party pooper, but
we need to get ready for work.”

“Right. Do you want to join me for a bath?”
he asked, ever hopeful. Perhaps they could—

She chuckled. “We’d never get to work at
this rate.” She sat up, tying the belt more securely about her
waist. He’d been so needy he hadn’t even gotten her out of the
robe. “You go on. I’ll finish my writing and take the second shift
at the bath.”

“Spoilsport.” He grimaced, reaching over to
tweak her nose, but she evaded him, laughing as she sped away.

* * *

Derek mopped his wet hair dry before running
the damp towel over his body to wipe up the stray droplets that had
escaped the first pass. True to her word, Carly hadn’t joined him,
but when he padded out of the bathroom, she was nowhere in
sight.

Something must’ve called her away, and
judging by the female voices that drifted through the open door,
someone must’ve dropped by, most presumably her sister who lived
nearby. True enough, Charlotte’s voice came to him loud and clear
as he moved to the doorway.

“…your hunk of a husband. I’m going to steal
him away from you one day, just like the time I stole your prom
date away.” An evil, malicious laugh floated to him. “Remember him?
What’s his name?” A sound of impatience. “Oh, never mind. He
couldn’t take his eyes off me once I flashed him my breasts. It’ll
be the same with Derek, you’ll see.” Another laughter pealed,
devoid of real mirth. “He’s more suited to me anyway—we’re both
tall, beautiful…we’re perfect for one another. You’re lucky you saw
him first and got your claws into him real tight. If I’d seen him
first, you’d have no chance at all.”

Listening with mounting fury, Derek gripped
the door and urged his wife,
Fight her. Tell her she’s wrong.

“Charlotte…stop it…”

He heard his wife’s weak, uncertain voice,
before it was overridden by Charlotte, who continued to prattle on
in the same vein. “You’re such an ugly duckling, Carly, surely you
can’t expect to keep—”

He couldn’t listen to such drivel any
longer, so he shut the bedroom door. Fury raged in him, a fury that
compelled him to rush down the stairs and show Charlotte just how
wrong she was, but the knowledge that this was Carly’s fight
stopped him from his impulsive action. He’d given his heart to
Carly long ago, and as far as he was concerned, he was hers now and
forever, but until she stood up to people like Charlotte, she’d
never believe she “owned” him. This was one battle he couldn’t
fight for her.

Helpless anger dodging his steps, he walked
passed her writing desk on his way to the walk-in wardrobe. To his
surprise, her journal lay open on the desk. His gaze landed
involuntarily on a written page, and his mind started registering
words before he could catch himself.

…wonderful, great, magnificent. Paltry words at best, but I
can find no other words to describe just how…wonderful Derek’s
lovemaking is. See, I’m repeating myself. Imagine me lit from
within by different-colored light bulbs may be an apt
description.

Anger drained away from him, and a smile
flitted about his lips. That he should be able to please his wife
so caused great satisfaction to course through him. He started to
walk away when his eyes caught some words in the next paragraph
that sent a chill through him.

Sometimes though, I feel it’s too good to be true, as if I
may wake up one day to find it’s all a dream. Whenever I see the
models he works with, I’m assailed by doubts. How can someone like
Derek want to be with someone like me? This is all so…unreal. He
comes into contact with so many beautiful women, he even dated some
of them…so why me? I’m not pretty, my breasts are small (men like
big breasts, don’t they?) nor am I particularly talented. Not even
in the sack. I learned more about lovemaking from Derek than from
my exes.

Then there’s Charlotte. She’s tall, lovely, willowy and
sexy, everything I’m not. I know she lusts after him, and it hurts
and it’s embarrassing, but she’s always been like that. She always
has to have the things I have, and it seems she’s now set her eyes
on my husband. Why couldn’t she be contented with her
own?

God, I hate this, I hate the doubts that are eating at me.
What if she’s right? What if Derek married me because he finds me a
novelty, so different from the women he dated? C. predicted he’d
drop me once he tires of me.

I’m so scared. I don’t want that day to come.

Four months of bliss with him, but I have an ominous
feeling that

She’d stopped there, presumably because of
their unexpected visitor. Derek’s jaw clenched as he turned away,
his wrath coming back in full force. His Aunt Marge always said no
good came out of eavesdropping. Apparently, the principle held true
for reading what he had no right to read. He stood in front of his
clothes, yet he didn’t see them, his mind churning with
thoughts.

BOOK: Men of Fortune 1: Derek
12.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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